By the Spring of
1995, Elliott had already clinched a deal with another label, Kill Rock
Stars, for his second LP, which was duly released in May 1995. Though
untitled, the record is commonly known as "Elliott Smith"
since his name appears on the cover. (In press releases from the '95-'96
period it is also referred to as "Kill Rock Stars.") This
came about thanks to a 2 week tour he did with Kill Rock Stars owner
Slim Moon, who became a friend and offered Elliott considerable freedom
in putting together this album and its sequel, eventually titled Either/Or.

In a March 2000 interview,
he stated that among his albums, "the self-titled one was a turning
point. At the time I felt it was fully what it was and I had no concern
about what people would think of it."

In the Spring of
1997, looking back from the vantage point of the then brand new Either/Or,
Elliott remarked: "The last one wasn't specifically about dope,
but I used dope as a vehicle to talk about dependency and non-self-sufficiency.
I could have used love as that vehicle, but that's not where I was.
During all the interviews for the last album [Elliott Smith], everyone
read the songs at a very surface level. They wanted to know why there
were so many songs about heroin. ..." (Rocket interview)

Whatever the reviewers
thought, the songs of "Elliott Smith" explore the eternal
theme of life on the skids with lots of little psychological and topographical
details that have you sweating out there right on the streets with the
desperate, depressed junkie protagonist. "Needle in the Hay"
(originally recorded with a trumpet solo by Eric Mathews-this had to
go out when Elliott mixed the song down) had the feel of a bitter letter
home: "You ought to be proud that I'm getting good markssssssssss..."
Three years later, in a 1998 interview, he reflected: "Needle in
the Hay is, for me, the darkest one and it's a big 'fuck you' song to
anybody and everybody."

"Christian Brothers,"
with its driving raw energy beat, gives the tattoo version of every
outcast adolescent's experience of loss and alienation. The song's rivetingly
hooky chord work and tragic wailing choruses make it a favorite at shows.
"Clementine," perhaps like "Sweet Adeline" inspired
by his grandmother's glee club singing, strikes a lonely scene in a
deserted club: "the bartender's singing Clementine, while he's
turning around the open sign." "St Ides Heaven" lets
you feel what it's like to be tramping around town in the wee hours
high as a kite and feeling fine: "High on amphetamines, the moon
is a light bulb breaking, it'll go around with anyone, but it won't
come down for anyone." When bedtime finally comes and you crash,
"you wake up in the middle of the night, from a dream you won't
remember, flashing on, like a cop's light, you say she's waiting, and
I know what for: the white lady loves you more." What was she waiting
for? Death by accidental overdose?

vii. The Corner Seat

What was to be the
final Heatmiser LP, bearing the koan-esque title Mic City Sons (did
they come up with this on the tour bus one afternoon playing Exquisite
Corpse?), was finished by late February or early March 1996. After the
album was finished, Elliott immediately left for a tour with Mary Lou
Lord. "Mic City Sons" has something of a divided nature, apparently
containing two albums in one: an EP by Elliott and a short album of
tracks by a newer, more lavishly upholstered Heatmiser (thanks to the
usual seamless production by Schnapf and Rothrock). The track on which
the two divergent styles of the album come closest to dovetailing is
Neil's song "Pop in G," on which Elliott sang lead. The production
style and the mood of Elliott's songs on the album look ahead to his
1998 release XO, also produced by Schnapf and Rothrock.

Plainclothes man,
the second track on the disc, contains some of Elliott's most directly
stated lyrics:

i only really needed
alcohol
something that'll treat me okay
and wouldn't say the things you'd say
............
he's so unhappy inside
he's serious with everyone
and he thinks he'll win you with his angry kiss
acting like he has no needs
wanting you to watch him bleed

The other songs on
the disc saw no staunching for the narrator's bleeding wounds. "You
gotta move" ironically pinpointed how changing location fails to
make any real difference in how he feels about his life:

you're just below
dallas town
where the sky burns bright white
i watched the sun go down
and the moon lights you up like a spotlight
so stumble and trip down the broken strip
with your planet packed in your car
you just move, don't go far

"Not half right,"
the unlabeled final track of the disc, seems to be the narrator addressing
his own reflection in the mirror:

would you say that
the one of your dreams
got in you and ripped out the seams
that's what i'd say
.....................
with a broken sink for a face
in a head that just takes up space
he's not half right

Although the focus
of these songs is upon a very personal calculus of despair, it's easy
enough in hindsight to glimpse signs in these lyrics of Elliott's discomfort
with his position in the band. In "The Winter of Heatmiser,"
one of the few press pieces at the time to focus more on Neil Gust than
Elliott, music journalist Dave Lott comments: "Gone are the closeness
and fraternity of the past. And, of course, the emotional strain that
existed on their earlier albums is still around, but now it's almost
overshadowed by loneliness, panic and desperation that befits a band
taking a critical look at its own history." While Neil expresses
the hope that he and Elliott might continue to work together in the
band, Elliott might have quoted the lyrics to a song from Yellow No.
5, "The Corner Seat," to express his own feelings of life
in the band:

these people don't
know who you are
they've seen you play and they'd probably say
you think you're some kind of star
and they've got their powers of conversation
and they need someone to dominate
.......................
it's a hip trip man you can never get out of
you're the one who brought me down here in the first place
oh man i'd rather be in outer space
than follow over to the corner seat

In "The Fix
is in," one of the Mic City Sons songs, he had written:

i can't stand by
here waiting while they dumb me down
i fit the perfect picture that you want for all
the fix is in i'm going where i don't belong

This could be viewed
as his final comment upon the band's later period.

The Fall of '96 saw
the release of Mic City Sons, the final spate of Heatmiser gigs, and
further work on Either/Or.

About Heatmiser's
final concert in 1996, a fan named Trav recalled:

My favorite Heatmiser
moment was their last show, when they played, "It don't Come Easy",
by Ringo Starr. It was fabulous and after they finished, they had the
most contented look on their faces. I know that
they were proud of that cover. Definitely a moment not to forget.

Journalist Jeff Stark
reviewed one of the final gigs the band played, on December 1, 1996,
at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco. Stark described Elliott
"strapped with an electric guitar and surrounded by amps"
as very much in his element: "part charismatic rock-star, part
bar-band regular oozing nonchalant confidence." Clearly, it was
a good night for Elliott, and for the band. The following interchange
was recorded:

"Rock and roll
with swagger" was how Stark described the band's performance of
the song "Get Lucky," and seems a fitting way to remember
the end of Heatmiser.

Jem Cohen's film
Lucky 3 (released eventually on a Kill Rock Stars compilation video)
provides a poignant snapshot of Elliott at this time. As in one of his
own songs, the film shifts between grainy and clear images, scenes shot
head on or at an oblique angle, sequences in monochrome and color, objects
(including Elliott's own eyes) seen in extreme close-up, or at a charitable
distance. Although he did other music "videos" before and
since, this is probably the most apposite cinematic counterpoint to
the interior landscape of his songs. It is telling that the terrain
of Portland is as much a part of what we see as the rooms of Elliott's
home, or the studio where he records his songs. Covered in grime and
more than worn at the edges, the town turns weary eyes towards a dark
sky, hoping for a dawn that may or may not be waiting at the end of
night.